


Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Little Red John, M/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Shota, Werewolf Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little John Watson cuts through the dark woods and makes an interesting ally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

John knew walking through this part of the woods was dangerous, but if he didn’t get these jams to the market on the other side of the forest by dark his father would tear him to pieces. Looking into the dimly lit wood he was scared, but he had to go in.

He would be brave! Like all his books about knights and soldiers and heroes, he would be just like them and brave the perilous situation and come through victorious!

He sang softly to keep his mind from wandering, a little red knit cap on top of his curls. He hurried his way through, swishing through piles of leaves and jumping on them to hear them crackle. He giggled and ran over them, careful not to spill the jellies in his basket and toddled on. He’d no idea what was lurking in the shadows.

The legends all said the wolf only turned at the full moon, but that was a lie. The wolf was always there, but only made himself known when he wanted the humans to know him. The less knowledge they had the better.

So here he was, lying in wait, or moreso observing at this point. He watched the tiny, beautiful child hopping through the leaves with a wicked grin, a clawed hand wrapping around the tree. He could smell the child’s skin, and he yearned to get closer.

He crept, using the boy’s giggles and his feet crunching leaves loudly as cover for his movements. He stalked the boy, silent and careful, his mouth salivating watching the little morsel bop about. The wolf grinned, licking the budding fangs in his  mouth and creeping closer and closer as the boy walked.

He was so caught up in the child he was careless enough to snap a fallen branch underfoot.

The child froze, turning and looking around wildly. “H-hello?” He stammered, terrified. “Who’s there?” He swallowed and drew a tiny wooden sword, aiming it this way and that at the growing shadows of the twilight. “You stay back!” The wolf smoothed his hair back, righting his suit and stepped out where the child could see him, human as could be.

“Easy, little warrior,” he smiled. “It’s alright. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

The child stared at him, swallowing hard. “Wh-who are you?” He whispered.

“My name is Jim,” he smiled, waving at him a little. “Hi~” The boy relaxed bit by bit.

“I-I’m John. John Watson,” he breathed. “I’m supposed to take these to the market but it’s…it’s really scary here.”

Jim cocked his head. “What are you afraid of, little one?” He asked, walking closer still. The boy didn’t run pr back away this time.

John brought his voice to a whisper. “There’s a werewolf in these woods.” He clutched his toy and looked around as if the monster would appear. Sweet child not realizing it already had… Jim smiled.

“What do you think the wolf would want with you, dear?” He asked, tickling under John’s chin. The red capped boy giggled before answering.

“I-I don’t know. To eat me, I guess.”

Jim’s stomach fluttered at the idea of devouring this succulent little morsel, feeling his cheeks as he patted them. “You think it’ll just swoop in and gobble you up?”

John shivered, looking around again as if this act alone would bring the beast to them. “Y-yes.”

“I don’t think it would be so quick, little one,” he assured. “I think it would take its time with you.”

John’s lips shook, staring up at Jim.

The man’s eyes had changed to a color so dark they were black in these shadows, claws on his fingers now and his teeth were getting sharper. He had every opportunity to run, but he didn’t. He stayed rooted to the spot and trembled, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Jim faltered, looking down at the weeping child with something tweaking in his chest. He knelt in front of him, tipping his chin up. The boy sobbed.

“Please, eat me fast. If Father finds out I didn’t get the jams delivered he’ll kill me anyway. Please, eat me,” he cried, not exaggerating like children tended to do. No, this little boy meant it.

And suddenly the wolf just couldn’t.

“Shh… “ he thumbed away his tears and smoothed his hair back. “Shh… It’s alright. It’s alright. I won’t eat you.”

He trembled and looked up at him. “But…but I thought?”

“I never said I would eat you. I said that if I were to eat you, I’d toy with you first. I don’t want to eat you, little one. You’re safe from me.” He patted the boy’s cap. “I can help you get through the forest in time. I know a shortcut.”

John looked at him, wanting to believe him. “And you, you won’t…?” Jim laughed.

“No. I promise you, Johnny, I won’t hurt you in any way. Or eat you or anything of the kind. All I will do is take you to the market.”

Hesitantly, John took the wolf’s hand.

Jim did as promised. He led the boy to the marked and walked him back to the other side of the forest so he could get home.

John was an absolute delight, filled with bravery and stories of knights and dragons and all of the things he’d like to see and do. He babbled out question after question about werewolves and other creatures that existed and how he wanted to see them and meet them. He even asked if they were all as handsome as Jim was.

“No,” he laughed, the sound dark and striking, like metal scraping porcelain. Jim stopped at the tree line with him. “I’m just blessed that way, I suppose.”

John muttered something about Jim being very, very pretty but was too shy to repeat it. Instead, he blurted, “Thank you for not eating me.” Jim slid his clawed fingers over John’s cheek, making the boy giggle. “That tickles!”

“Be safe walking home,” he urged, looking around at the dark. “If you have any trouble, ever, call my name, Johnny boy. I’ll be there to save you.”

John blinked at his new savior and nodded. “Okay, Jim. Bye-bye!”

He ran off toward his house. Jim smiled, watching him go until the red cap disappeared entirely and stepped back into the shadows, disappearing into the dark wood.

~*~

“Father, please no!” John cried, holding up his hands while a belt struck his tiny body over and over again. The hard leather of the belt bit into his soft pink skin, leaving welts that stung and bled.

The child wept and backed himself into a corner, hiding his face from the blows.

“Your mother spends all day on dinner and your ungrateful arse doesn’t get home ‘til dark?!” He bellowed, striking him again. “You worthless, disgusting little monster!”

“Jim!” The boy cried, his face bleeding, eye swelling from where the leather snapped on his face. “Jim, help me!”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re calling for, boy?!” He snarled, hitting him repeatedly. “No one can save you!”

The window shattered to pieces.

A beast stood in the middle of the floor. Still mostly a man yes, but his features were twisted and wide, the sounds coming from his throat animalistic and frightening. Eyes black, claws stretched, the wolf howled, sending the abusive man falling down and grappling for something to strike at it with.

The monster ripped the belt from the man’s hands and tore into him with it, snarling almost sounding like laughing.

John cowered in the corner, sobbing.

The wolf looked over his shoulder at the child, fangs dripping. “Cover your eyes.”

John whimpered and did as he was told. “Y-yes, Jim!”

The screams from his father were cut off by ripping, then gurgling. Bone crunched, flesh tore and John knew that Jim was devouring his father’s heart.

He didn’t look until he felt Jim in front of him. He carefully lowered his hand, looking at him and quivering.

Jim was human again, features relaxed and dripping with blood.

“Did…did you kill my father?” He whimpered. Jim nodded, turning over his battered little face, his hands coated in blood. John shuddered.

“Yes,” the wolf breathed. “You called for me.” John swallowed, not daring to look over at his father’s mutilated corpse. Jim took John’s red cap from the floor and placed it carefully on his head. “Are you afraid?”

No. No, John wasn’t afraid of Jim. He was afraid this was a dream and he would wake to more of his father’s beatings. He shook his head.

Jim grinned.

Carefully, John took a rag that had been knocked to the floor during his father’s tirade and tenderly started to wipe the blood from Jim’s face. Jim’s smile turned warm, letting John clean his face and then his hands. It was intimate, soft, and when John was through he kissed each of his hands and then leaned up to kiss the wolf’s stained lips.

“I’m coming with you,” he informed the beast. Jim grinned and stood. He took John into his arms and kissed him again, deeper.

“That you are.”

~*~

John looked around the large cabin Jim had taken him to deep in the woods, sitting on the sofa. His little legs kicked back and forth, the fire warming his chilled skin.

“Here you are.” Jim set a mug of cocoa in John’s hands, draping a blanket over his narrow shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

John sipped the drink and cooed. “Thank you, Jim.”

Jim watched him drink, eyes sparkling in the firelight. John thought it was beautiful. He hadn’t realized he’d whispered that aloud. Jim chuckled, touching his hair.

“You think my eyes are pretty?” He asked. John blushed as red as his cap.

“I…I do, yes,” he whispered. “I think they’re very pretty.”

Jim smiled and tickled under John’s chin again. The babe giggled and leaned against his palm.

“Thank you,” he said softly, letting his fingers slide through his curls. John cooed, sighing under the gentle touches and cooing, pressing into his hand with soft sounds of pleasure. “I need to check your wounds, sweetheart,” he whispered.

John swallowed and nodded, setting the mug down.

Jim leaned forward, carefully unbuttoning the child’s pajama shirt and looking at the welts there. “Do they hurt?” He asked, touching them carefully. John nodded, sniffling.

“Alright, just lean back for me. And don’t be frightened, sweetheart, this’ll make it feel better.”

He slid to his knees in front of the boy, hands on either side of him as he dragged his tongue over each welt to soothe it. John shivered, goosebumps on his skin. He cooed and whined with each lick. Jim smirked. “Mm, look at you…” He breathed, tweaking one of the boy’s pert nipples in his claws. John moaned.

“Ah!”

“Shh…it feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispered, kissing over his throat. “Feels so good, hm?” He chuckled, kissing and sucking lightly at his skin. He licked each one, finally licking his face.

He looked at John for a beat, at the shaking, squirming child fussing with his pajama pants to hide something. “Oh, Johnny, Johnny…” He breathed. “Do you need my tongue somewhere else? Does somewhere else need to feel better? Hm?”

John nodded, a blush high in his cheeks, blue eyes dilated. Jim’s hands slid up his thighs, gently pulling the clothes off to reveal his soft skin that was aching for attention. “I-I never did thank you properly…” He whispered. Jim grinned.

“Oh, darling, I think this is plenty thanks,” Jim growled.  John’s breath stuttered, his legs spreading.

“My, Jim, what big hands you have…” he whimpered, pressing into the caressing palms. Jim smirked up at him, kissing nearer and nearer to his groin. “What dark eyes you have… “ He choked off when Jim’s searing mouth closed over his tiny member. “Oh! Oh, what a soft tongue you have!”

Panting, sweating, his red cap slouched back on his head John moaned and howled into the night, willing to let the Big Bad Wolf do as he pleased for as many years as he liked.


End file.
